


Talk Dirty To Me

by Sheepie



Series: Gucci & Chanel [7]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Aftercare, Dirty Talk, Harry is lonely and horny, M/M, Merlin makes sex toys in his spare time, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sequel, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheepie/pseuds/Sheepie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to When Harry's Away (Merlin and Eggsy Play).</p><p>Harry is missing his men and tired of boring meetings. When he can't seem to take care of his problem by himself, he calls Merlin for a little help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk Dirty To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anarchycox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/gifts).



> Self-betaed.
> 
> Hadn't planned on writing the sequel for awhile, but here you go! :D Hope you like!
> 
> (I like to think when Merlin is bored he makes all kinds of dirty little toys. Like perfect replicas of his dick for Eggsy and Harry.)
> 
> Also for Anarchycox. Hope things get better for ya hun!

            When Eggsy and Merlin sent the picture of them dressed up and heading out, a small wave of jealousy passed through Harry. Not directly at them, but rather at the fact that while they were off having fun, he was stuck in a board room listening to the head of the South American Kingsman branch prattle on. Ginger sat to his right, and occasionally they shared a look of exasperation. It was a not-so-secret fact that Ricardo Sousa liked the sound of his own voice, and he tended to go off on drawn out tangents that could have easily been wrapped up in fifteen minutes or less.

            Harry mulled sullenly over the dinner he was missing and watched Ricardo with barely veiled disdain. It was the annual security conference, where the heads of security divisions (MI6, Mossad, and CIA), including all six branches of Kingsman, as well as a handful of diplomatic dignitaries, gathered to discuss laws and other key points of business. It was boring and dreadful and Harry hated it with a seething passion.

            This was his first as Arthur, but he’d attended several with Chester King as one of his guards. And even when he hadn’t been sitting in on the actual meeting, he’d been stuck playing sentinel at the door, listening to muffled voices as they discussed budgets.

            Harry briefly wondered if Lancelot and Ector were going out of their minds as much as he was; he sympathized for them, playing bodyguard was never exciting on one of these trips. The annual Round Table Conference was more secretive than the Bilderberg Group. The chances of anyone locating them, let alone reaching them to attack, were about as possible as Haley’s Comet circling the earth twice in one year.

            After three hours of Ricardo talking, they broke for dinner, which was held in a large dining hall. It was more benign conversation, with Ricardo and Sestsuna Ishikawa—the East Asian branch head—directing the conversation. When dinner was completed, they returned to the grand meeting room, and took their places back at the long mahogany table. It never ceased to amuse Harry that round table meetings were held at a table that was rectangular.

            “Can you believe me have two more days of this?” Ginger whispered into his ear, her floral perfume curling beneath his nose.

Of all the other Kingsman heads, Harry preferred Ginger’s company over the rest. She reminded him of himself, bold and brash, refusing to conform to the standards that old society had set.

            Harry huffed and whispered back, “Don’t remind me.”

            Luckily Ricardo had taken a seat to allow someone else to speak, and one by one they moved down the line of business. As the night grew later, Harry started to suspect that they’d never adjourn, and he’d be stuck in this personal hell for all eternity.

            A small ding from his phone jostled him from the miasma of melancholy. He removed his phone and clicked on the text he received from Merlin. The photo downloaded before he could stop it.

            Eggsy was sprawled on the bed, her arms tossed above her head and her legs opened wide, bent at the knees. Her spent cock was red and glistening on her belly, her bollocks obstructing Harry’s view of her arsehole. A beautiful flush was spread across her chest and face, and from the glazed look in her eyes, Harry suspected she’d just received one of Merlin’s patented blow jobs.

            Harry’s cock gave an approving twitch and he really wished he was there with them and not here, listening to—he didn’t even know what, anymore.

            “Oh that’s nice,” Ginger mused, and Harry’s face burned. He quickly closed out of the picture. Ginger chuckled. “Looks like he’s having a better time than we are.”

            “She,” Harry automatically corrected.

            Ginger arched a brow, meeting his gaze. He held it, willing her to challenge him. She shrugged and amended, “Looks like she’s having more fun.”

            “They certainly are,” Harry sighed and slipped his phone back in his pocket, fingers brushing his semi-hard cock. God he hated these meetings.

            By the time the meeting adjourned for the evening, Harry was exhausted and ready to collapse into bed. He bid Ector and Lancelot good night, let himself into his hotel room, and immediately poured himself a scotch.

            His hard on had subsided, especially when Ricardo had launched into another speech. During that time Merlin had sent another text, but Harry had enough mind not to look at it—though he had a feeling Ginger would have appreciated anything that Merlin sent.

            Harry sipped his scotch and went about getting ready for bed. It was well past midnight, and he was beyond exhausted. But tension had knotted its way across his shoulders, and despite sitting for the majority of the day, he was geared up. He was hedging that razor thin line of being dead on his feet and wide awake.

            After finishing his scotch, Harry took a nice hot shower and changed into some pajama bottoms. It was only when he was settled back on the bed that he remembered the text message Merlin sent him.

            He pulled up the text, expecting another picture, but was pleasantly surprised to find a video. “What naughty things did you two get into while I was gone?” Harry mused. He shifted in his bed, propping himself up on a mound of pillows, and then hit play.

            Oh.

            Ooooh.

            Oh, this was a surprise.

            Eggsy was impaled on Merlin’s thrusting fist, cock bobbing, body covered in sweat and a flush. She was babbling as she rolled her hips onto Merlin’s hand, swallowing his fist down to the wrist with each thrust.

            “How are ye doing love?” Merlin asked, his deep brogue thin and needy.

            Harry shuddered at the sound of his voice, his own cock twitching encouragingly. He shifted on the bed, allowing his legs to drop open, and palmed absently at his dick through his silk pajama bottoms.

            “Oxfords, oxfords, oxfords,” Eggsy moaned, a litany of breathy keens, that lilted and broke into whines. Her cock hardened, dribbling on her abdomen, bouncing with the force of Merlin’s thrusts. “Oh god Alec—I—I—ahh—it’s so big—yeees!”

            God the sound of her crying, her body shuddering around Merlin. Harry wished he was there, wished he could help take her apart. What would it be like to have her take Merlin’s fist and then Harry’s?

            One day, when there were no natural disasters or megalomaniacs trying to destroy the world, Harry and Merlin would take the day off and spend it ravishing Eggsy. They’d fill her with cum, leave her stuffed full and dripping. They’d fill her hole, her mouth.

            Or maybe he’d have Eggsy and Merlin do that to him, strap him down and fuck him. Coat him with their cum until he’s a filthy mess and so thoroughly marked as theirs that it’s branded into his soul.

            He dug the heel of his palm into his cock. His silk bottoms clung to the head of his dick, which had grown slick with precum. Fuck he wanted to be there now, wrapped in their warmth.

            Eggsy stiffened on the camera, and with a loud cry, came. And it was fucking gorgeous. Harry groaned, diving his hand into his pants to grab his cock and squeeze.

            He hated this, hated being separated. Eggsy and Merlin had become so intricately a part of him, woven into the very strands of his DNA, that now he couldn’t be apart without feeling as if a part of him is missing.

            He rubbed his thumb along the head of his cock, using his precum as slick. But it wasn’t enough. His hand just wouldn’t do anymore, and he gave a frustrated grunt as he hit replay and sped up his hand.

            Something was missing.

            More specifically two people were missing.

            Harry flopped his head back with a whine and ended the video mid-Eggsy’s moan. He pulled up Merlin’s number and hit call.

            He answered on the second ring.

            “Harry?” Merlin murmured, voice rough with sleep. “Is everything okay?”

            “No, everything isn’t,” Harry groaned, cinching his fingers around his shaft and giving a diligent tug to his prick. “I’ve sat in meetings all day, while you got to enjoy yourself. And now—and now—” he finished with a frustrated noise, heart in his throat.

            Merlin chuckled, unbothered by Harry’s petulant tone, and supplied, “And now ye can’t come?”

            “No,” Harry half-sighed, half-sobbed, working his hand faster. He could feel his climax curling in his gut, an ever shifting cantankerous cat, who can’t get comfortable. “And it’s your fault. I demand you fix this, immediately. It’s the proper thing to do.”

            “I dinnae know, with that tone, perhaps I’ll just leave ye waiting until ye return,” Merlin mused.

            Harry choked out a moan. “You wouldn’t.”

            Merlin went silent, and for a heart-stopping moment Harry thought he hung up. “Merlin?”

            “Nae, I won’t,” Merlin said, laughter lacing each throaty decibel. “Look in yer bag. I left ye a surprise.”

            Harry immediately released his cock, shucking off his pants, before climbing out of bed and walking over to his suitcase.

            “Inside pocket, there should be a velvet bag,” Merlin said.

            “How did I not see this?” Harry huffed, retrieving the large package. It felt cylinder in shape, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion what it was. “And when did you get this in my bag?”

            “A magician never reveals his tricks,” Merlin said, then ordered, “Open it. Careful, there should be a package of lube in there for ye.”

            Harry removed the toy from the velvet bag, expecting a vibrator. What he found was a perfect replica of Merlin’s cock.

            “It vibrates,” Merlin supplied, even though Harry hadn’t said anything.

            “Do I want to ask how you made this?” Harry said, shifting so the phone was tucked between his shoulder and ear, allowing him to run his fingers reverently over the veins lacing the massive cock. His stomach fluttered, and the thought of inserting this into himself made him clench his arse. “You know what? I don’t care.”

            Harry returned the bed, hit speaker phone, and set his phone on the night stand. He found the lubricant in the bag and pulled it out. “Now what?” Harry asked.

            “Now I want ye to open yerself up, one finger at a time,” Merlin instructed. “Tell me what ye’re doing.”

            Harry applied a little bit of lubricant to his fingers, then rose up on his knees and angled his hand around to trace the tip of his finger along his puckered hole. He eased the finger in, letting out a breathy sigh.

            “Talk to me Harry.”

            “One finger. I-I’m fucking myself with one finger,” Harry said, cheeks burning. He pressed down, wiggling the digit to help relax his inner muscles.

            “Good,” Merlin praised, and Harry shivered at the affirmation. “With yer other hand, I want ye flick yer nipple. Can ye do that for me?”

            “Yes,” Harry gasped, reaching up with his free hand to tug at his left nipple. The sharp bite of pain rippled through him and moaned.

            “That’s it—God, ye and Eggsy have the best tits. Wish I was there to suck them. Would ye like that? Let me play with yer tits. Bite them. Lick them. Come all over them,” Merlin said, his own breathing growing short.

            “F-fuck,” Harry hissed, alternating between squeezing and plucking at his nipple.

            “Maybe I could make ye come from just sucking. Have ye choke on Eggsy’s cock, while I suck those lovely tits of yers.” Merlin groaned, though it was slightly muffled, and Harry could make out slapping sound. “Add another finger, love. Need to get ye nice and open for my cock.”

            “Shit.” Harry didn’t seem to have the brain capacity for anything above profanity. He withdrew his hand, re-lubed, and inserted a second finger. When he sunk his hand to the last knuckle, he rubbed at his walls, scissoring himself open.

            “Our girl was so lovely today,” Merlin continued. “Ye would have been so proud. So beautiful on my fist. Did ye like that?”

            “God yes,” Harry moaned. “Wish I was there. Wish I’d been a part.”

            He regretted not being able to watch Eggsy come undone.

            “Next time,” Merlin promised. “She’ll break beautifully on yer fist. Then we’ll fill her up with so much cum it’ll gush from her. Think our girl can take it?”

            “Yes, yes she’s such a good girl,” Harry stammered, picking up the speed of his hand. He worked a third finger in, the stretch of muscles burning, but he didn’t care.

            “Are ye ready Harry? Ready for my cock?” Merlin asked.

            Harry stilled his hand, panting hard. “Y-yes… fuck, please, yes.”

            “Get it nice and slick,” Merlin ordered, and Harry shakily removed his hand and grabbed the toy. He slathered it perhaps with a bit more lubricant than necessary, dribbling some on the bed. The cleaning staff would have a field day. He wrapped his arm around and angled the head of the toy at his entrance, resting the fat cockhead against his hole.

            “Ready?” Merlin asked.

            “Yes,” Harry moaned, and on Merlin’s command, he sunk down. His head fell back as the toy stretched him, opening him up so he could fit the toy. It was made of a fleshy rubber that felt shockingly real, and if Harry closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Merlin’s voice, he could even pretend that Merlin was really there with him.

            “How does it feel?”

            “So good,” Harry slurred, “So full. Needed it. Needed yer cock.”

            “I know,” Merlin chuckled, “I always know what ye need.”

            And he did. Merlin could always be trusted to take care of him and Eggsy.

            “Now move, love,” Merlin instructed. “I want ye fucking yerself on my cock.”

            Harry lifted his hips and dropped down, the shock reverberating through his core. He choked on another moan, rolling his hips before the aftershocks even stilled. His cock bounced as he rode the toy. He adjusted the angle, moving it so the head of dildo struck his prostate with each drop.

            “Fuck!” Harry shouted, eyes lighting up.

            “God ye feel so good,” Merlin groaned, the sound of his own jacking hand increasing. “So fucking tight. Such a delicious hole ye have. Are ye my little cock slut?”

            “Y-yes, yes,” Harry stammered, working himself hard, trying to press the toy deeper.

            “Say it,’ Merlin ordered.

            “I-I’m your little cock slut,” Harry moaned brokenly.

            “There’s a switch on the bottom. Hit it,” Merlin said, strained. “Now.”

            Harry listened, and the first wave of vibrations shuddered through him. He cried, freezing as the toy buzzed to life. “Oooooh God. Oh god,” Harry sobbed. “Fuuck!”

            “Turn it up,” Merlin continued, the words nearly garbled by a moan.

            Tears stung the corners of his eyes. He didn’t know if he could take a higher setting, but he turned it up, all the way, and the powerful toy trembled inside him, filling the room with loud buzzing, as if a hive of bees had been unleashed.

            “I want ye to come just on that, without touching yerself,” Merlin said. “Can ye do that for me?”

            Harry didn’t doubt that he could. “Y-yes, fuck, Merlin—oh god, I can’t last.”

            He picked up the speed of his hand, pounding his hole with the tremulous toy. Each time the head struck his prostate, it sent a powerful ripple through him. The tightness in his stomach grew, and he felt that sharp, biting build of his orgasm. It was the panicked race to the finish light, a sudden burst of energy that spread through his veins.

            “Fuck,” Merlin groaned, though the sound of the toy had nearly deafened him. Harry fucked the toy, over and over, the muscles in his thighs tightening and trembling with each lift and fall. Sweat broke out along his shoulders and back, and he ground down on the toy, digging it up into his prostate, until he snapped.

            He came with aloud, drawn out cry, which was mixed with Merlin’s own deeper groan. Cum splashed across the bed in hot ropes. Harry arched his spine, riding through the orgasm.

            When it finally subsided, he collapsed onto the bed, face pressed into the mattress and arse in the air, toy still deep inside him. His legs twitched as the vibrations teased his overstimulated hole. He whimpered but couldn’t muster the energy to reach back and remove it, so he rocked against the mattress, weakly humping the bed.

            “Fuck,” Merlin whispered, “God I wish I could have seen that. We’re using that when ye get back.”

            Harry moaned, throat raw.

            “Turn it off love,” Merlin instructed, and only then did Harry find enough strength to reach back and switch the toy off. He withdrew it with a groan and dropped it onto the bed. “Talk to me, how are ye?”

            “So good,” Harry said, voice wrecked. “God I miss you both.”

            “I know love, I know,” Merlin said. “But ye’ll be home soon. Are ye feeling better?”

            “Yes,” Harry said. He was pretty sure his bones had turned to jelly. A deep content settled over him.

            “Can ye get up and wash off? Get some water?” Merlin asked. “I need ye to drink something and maybe eat a little snack. Can ye do that for me?”

            Harry didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to do anything but exist, but he knew Merlin was right. “Yes,” he managed, a little blitzed.

            “Good boy,” Merlin praised.

            It took a couple minutes for Harry’s heart rate to slow and his legs to regain their strength, before he stood shakily. He grabbed the toy and phone and carried them into the bathroom, setting them on the sink. Even though Merlin didn’t say anything, Harry knew he was still on the line as he washed off the toy, and then got a cloth and cleaned himself.

            He then fixed a glass of water and found some trail mix in the mini bar. Once he finished drinking and eating, he said, “Okay, I finished.”

            “Good,” Merlin said, and once again the approval radiated through Harry. He closed his eyes and savored the sound of Merlin’s satisfaction. “Now it’s time for bed, okay? Long day tomorrow. I’ll have Eggsy call ye before ye go in. Would ye like that?”

            “Yes,” Harry said immediately. He missed the sound of Eggsy’s voice as much as he missed Merlin’s. Harry peeled back the soiled blankets, leaving them in a pile at the foot of the bed. He crawled under the sheets and switched off the light, phone on the nightstand and glowing blue.

            “Good night Merlin,” Harry whispered. “I love you.”

            “G’night love,” Merlin repeated, “I love ye too, and so does Eggsy.”

            After they hung up, Harry sunk into the pillow and drifted off into a deep, sated sleep. The sooner he finished this trip, the sooner he could return home to his partners.


End file.
